


Packed Like Sardines

by animehead



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Hand Jobs, In Public, M/M, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 07:18:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animehead/pseuds/animehead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagami isn’t a fan of riding the train.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Packed Like Sardines

Kagami knows he’s frowning. He can tell by the way everyone on the train avoids eye contact with him. The people in closer proximity to him keep their backs turned to him altogether.  There’s a kid playing some type of handheld game in front of him. Kagami watches him briefly, glares at the back of his head as he mashes buttons, elbow slamming into Kagami’s stomach each time he gets too excited. 

He hates riding the train. 

It’s almost like he’s suffocating. The heat surrounding him is too much, and he would like nothing more than to at least slide his backpack off his shoulders. Maybe he’d take his jacket off too, lean back a little, let his shoulders press against the train wall, and enjoy the coolness of metal against the exposed parts of his skin. 

Something presses against his head and Kagami can’t tell if it’s a bag, or a purse, but whatever it is, it has no business touching him. With a sigh, he scoots a fraction to the left, tries to put some space between his head and the item lingering next to it, only to hear an annoyed grunt in his ear. 

“Watch it,” Aomine says, eyebrows narrowed, eyes set sternly on Kagami. 

Kagami feels his foot being raised, lifted a few inches from its current position, which was on top of Aomine’s foot. More specifically, right on his new Jordan’s. 

“Then move,” Kagami grits out, his arm reaching down to block the kid in front of him from elbowing him in the stomach yet again. 

“No place to go,” Aomine replies and follows up with a yawn, breath smelling of spearmint gum as it fans over Kagami’s cheek. 

“Don’t blow your damn breath in my face like it’s okay,” Kagami growls, back pressing almost painfully against something hard in his backpack as he tries to add more distance between himself and Aomine.

Aomine just stares at him with thoughtful blue eyes before pursing his lips together and blowing hard in Kagami’s face. 

Kagami attempts to lunge forward, but the train jerks, sending him flying back against the wall and Aomine toppling against him. Aomine is courteous enough to let the people around him righten themselves first before he attempts to push himself off of Kagami. This gives Kagami the sudden opportunity to realize how incredibly warm his skin is. And it’s not just the feel of his skin, it’s his complexion, too. All warm and soft when it looks like it should be rigid and cold like his shitty personality. 

Bastard. 

There’s a scent coming from him, as well. Something fresh, like right after it rains and you can smell the earth all around you. But there’s something else there, something like wild strawberries, or some other sweet smelling fruit. Kagami doesn’t know. But he likes that scent, and when he inhales, he can almost taste it on his tongue. 

Or maybe he’s just hungry.

“Get off me,” Kagami mutters, hands reaching up to push at Aomine’s chest. 

“Don’t touch me.”

“Then  _move_.”

And Aomine does, but it’s only because the train jerks again, and he has to press one hand against the glass next to Kagami’s head to keep from slamming all of his weight against the other boy. 

Kagami immediately comprehends that this position is even worse than the other one. Aomine’s lips are way too close to his face and his knee is wedged between Kagami’s legs. The fact that more people have squeezed their way onto the train only makes things even more awkward and embarrassing. 

“Sorry,” Aomine says, his breath sweet and warm against Kagami’s ear. 

Kagami doesn’t know if he’s actually sorry or not. What he does know is that this is bad. Really bad. The train ride is horrible, bumping along the tracks, and neither of them can move. He avoids eye contact with Aomine, eyes searching for an escape, a reason to push himself past the crowd before Aomine can notice that the constant rub of his knee is making Kagami’s dick hard. 

“Hmm.”

Too late. 

“What’s that?” Aomine says through a yawn. He actually yawns, as if he isn’t fully aware of what’s pressing against his knee. 

Kagami doesn’t answer him. 

“Oi, Kagami. What’s that?” Aomine says again, knee slowly shifting side to side, and then up and down, gently grinding against the bulge in Kagami’s pants. “Tell me.”

“Fuck you,” Kagami mutters, cheeks reddening, eyes alternating between closing and opening to stare up at the train’s ceiling. 

Kagami refuses to look at Aomine, but he knows he’s smirking, can feel his taunting gaze burning all over his skin. Even when he leans in and his lips gently graze the tip of Kagami’s earlobe, Kagami can sense that smirk, can _feel_  it. And when Aomine speaks, Kagami swears he can hear it, too. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Aomine whispers. 

“Nothing to tell,” Kagami gasps out, fingers clutching at the straps on his backpack for support.

“Mm, guess you’re right,” Aomine agrees. 

And then he slides his free hand into Kagami’s sweatpants. 

There’s a lot of things that Kagami wants to say, but he can’t bring his mouth to form any words. All he can do is stand there with his back wedged against the train’s wall while Aomine’s hand grips him, stroking him with a strong, calloused palm that feels incredibly similar to his own. 

“You’re quiet,” Aomine says, and he stares directly at Kagami as he pumps his cock, his thumb grazing the slit and smearing precum before joining the rest of his fingers.

“What… ahh… what the hell do you want me to say?” Kagami replies. His hands drop from his backpack straps, one weakly gripping at Aomine’s wrist while the other hand slides beneath Aomine’s shirt, fingers pressing against hard abs and gliding over soft hair that tickles his skin.

“Haven’t looked around yet, have you?” There’s a knowing tone to Aomine’s voice, it’s playfully yet condescending and it annoys Kagami. “Time’s almost up, _Taiga_.”

“Shut up,” Kagami snaps. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on the way Aomine’s fingers feel wrapped around him, and on the lull of the the train when it isn’t jerking and throwing him back against the wall. More importantly, he focuses on Kagami’s scent, on the way it makes him feel dizzy and alert, relaxed and hyper, and so fucking  _alive_. 

“I’m tired of waiting,” Aomine says, ruining everything. “Maybe I’ll stop.” But he leans in and presses his lips gently against Kagami’s neck. “Just kidding,” he whispers before biting down. 

It takes everything for Kagami not to scream as he cums, hard spurts spilling over Aomine’s fist and down his arm. Kagami’s fingernails rake down Aomine’s stomach, scratching at warm skin and clawing at the waistband of Aomine’s pants. 

Kagami breathes in a couple of harsh breaths, eyes squeezed shut, mouth stretched so wide that his jaws actually begin to ache. 

“What’s with that look?” Aomine asks. 

“What the hell do you think?” Kagami replies. He tries to sound menacing, but he knows it doesn’t come out that way. 

An orgasm on a crowded public train will do that to you, he supposes. 

Kagami hisses when Aomine continues to pump him, his sensitive cum covered cock slowly becoming flaccid in the other boy’s hand. 

“The only one who can beat you, is me,” Aomine murmurs to himself before chuckling.

“What?” Kagami growls. “What the hell did you just say?”

But Aomine doesn’t reply. 

He simply grabs Kagami’s hand and lowers it to his own cock, impatiently waiting for him to return the favor. 


End file.
